


Valentines Ridiculousness

by KittieHill



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Multi Chapter, Sweetness, Valentines Related, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was going to do a multi-chapter Valentines day story but only started yesterday... so i managed to get 6 done, these include;</p><p>1) Love heart Sweeties<br/>2) A Dozen Roses<br/>3) Chocolates<br/>4) Surprise Date<br/>5) Love Letter<br/>6) Valentine's card.</p><p>Each story is between 500-1000 words long with a mixture of pairings. Range of ratings<br/>Concrit welcome, this was just a ridiculous thought in my mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Heart Sweets

John frowned as he picked up the letter with his name written on it tucked into the knocker of Baker Street. He carefully opened the seal and peeked inside at the small confectionary hidden within; John grinned as he took out the sweet and held it up to his eye to read the message written on the front,

**Bad Boy**

John chuckled a little, unsure of who would have sent such a present to him. He lifted his keys and opened the door, stopping at the first stair as he saw another envelope containing another sweet

**Lush lips**

The doctor frowned and furled his brows as he began to walk up the stairs; another envelope was stuck to the door of their flat with cellotape. John peeled it away and looked at the treat carefully

**Be mine**

Worrying that a dangerous criminal was messing with him and dreading to think what was happening inside the flat; John carefully creeped into the living room, looking around for Sherlock he noticed a white envelope on his chair. This one held two hearts inside

**First Love** & **True Love**

John’s heart was beating wildly now; either this was a vindictive plot by an insane sociopath… or… well… a vindictive plot by an insane sociopath whom he happened to live with. A soft scrape from the direction of Sherlock’s bedroom had John moving without a moment’s hesitation; his adrenalin pumping and his heart fluttering in his chest as though it had grown wings. He reached the outside of Sherlock’s bedroom and saw another envelope taped to the doorway; opening the seal he pulled out the sweet and gulped at the writing;

**I love you**

John carefully opened the door to Sherlock’s bedroom and peeked inside; the room was darker than it should have been at that time of day but was lit with a few strategically placed tealights which cast the bedroom with a soft glow. On the bed, lying on black silk sheets lay Sherlock.

‘John’ the younger man whispered, sitting up to allow the sheet to fall from his chest to pool around his groin showing off the long, pale expanse of flesh from neck to navel.

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered ‘Sherlock what’s this about’

The detective blushed and looked away; his teeth worrying his lip as he reached for John’s hand and placed the last sweet into the callused palm

**I’m shy**

John giggled and looked at Sherlock with a look which screamed _you? Shy?_ But he didn’t speak. The doctor moved instead to sit beside his best friend, their eyes meeting for a long and blazing look before John ran his fingers over Sherlock’s cheek ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely’ Sherlock whispered, pressing his lips to John’s and sighing happily that he wouldn’t be spending another Valentine’s day alone.


	2. A Dozen Roses

Molly rushed around the morgue carefully; she had a list as long as her arm and Sherlock had been a pain in the bum all morning. He had insisted that she give him a bag of toes for an experiment which Molly had promptly refused leaving the detective sulking and pouting like a child behind his microscope. Molly couldn’t care any less, she had a job to do and a deadline to do it by.

Valentine’s day was always a tough shift; not because her lack of dates or sex had anything to do with it ( _although it didn’t help)_ but it seemed that more people died around Valentine’s day than regular days. Old men taking Viagra to impress their partners fell over with cardiac arrests, domestic incidents which spiralled into full on assaults or murders were unfortunately very common not to mention the suicides. Molly sighed and flicked back her hair as she concentrated on her cadaver, humming as she created the Y shape incision and spouted her findings into the tape recorder carefully placed at her right side.

‘Molly?’ Sherlock’s voice carried around the empty morgue, his deep baritone thrumming through her body.

‘Yes, Sherlock, here’ Molly shouted quickly dropping the heart onto the scales.

‘You’ve had a delivery’ Sherlock walked close by, stopping to look into the cavern where the corpse’s heart once sat.

‘Of what?’ Molly asked, turning to face her friend and smiling when she saw the bunch of red roses in Sherlock’s hand.

‘Roses’ Sherlock replied

‘Oh they’re lovely!’ Molly said excitedly ‘show me the card?’

Sherlock changed the position of the flowers so he could lift out the personalised card and open it open in front of Molly. Her hands still clad in blood sticky gloves held out in front of her as she looked over at the card;

**To Molly,**

**Happy Valentine’s day**

**Your Secret Admirer x**

‘Who could it be?’ Molly asked excitedly, her eyes shining with delight as she looked over the beautiful crimson red petals,

‘Somebody who obviously thinks you’re special’ Sherlock whispered, his eyes taking a glance over Molly’s features. She really was pretty when she smiled.

‘Do you know who it is?’ Molly asked, childlike excitement building in her stomach,

‘Of course’ Sherlock scoffed

‘Let me just clean up’ Molly offered, pulling off her gloves and face visor until she was clad only in her scrubs. Sherlock led the way from the morgue into one of the labs and was startled to feel Molly’s hand on his shoulder blade, turning; he found her standing in his personal space.

‘Thank you Sherlock’ Molly whispered, stepping onto her tip toes she placed a gentle kiss onto Sherlock’s lips, her tongue moving to brush along Sherlock’s bottom lip as she begged for entry.

Sherlock stood statue still, his brain unable to process the current activities being thrust upon him. He carefully opened his mouth and returned the kiss as best he could with his limited experience and pulled away when he heard Molly groan into his mouth, she was panting slightly, her pupils larger than Sherlock had ever seen and her face flushed with desire.

‘Why are you thanking me?’ Sherlock stammered

‘For the… for the flowers’ Molly answered timidly

‘Oh. They weren’t from me’ Sherlock admitted ‘I took them from the delivery driver at the door. I see little point in sending people flowers when they’re just going to die within a week. That isn’t a good metaphor for love in my opinion’

Molly gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as she took a few shaky steps back ‘So why- Why did you kiss me?’

‘You kissed me!’ Sherlock insisted with confusion ‘I was merely observing and then you attacked my face with your lips’

‘Oh god, oh god’ Molly chanted, her face pale.

‘Molly. I don’t see why you are so affected. I’ve been told I am attractive and I’m fairly certain my breath doesn’t smell… was it a bad experience?’ Sherlock asked, his forehead furrowed with confusion.

Molly sighed and hung her head ‘No Sherlock, it was good. It was fine’

‘Ah. Well, I shall be off home then. John is making stew apparently’ Sherlock smiled ‘Do text DI Lestrade and say thank you for the flowers’

‘Greg?’ Molly asked ‘Greg Lestrade sent them?’

Sherlock narrowed his eyes ‘Of course it was Lestrade. Who else would have such little creativeness when picking out a gift? Also, he has had a sexual attraction to you for a while now but was unable or unwilling to admit it regardless of how many times I reassured him you would also enjoy a sexual relationship’

‘T-Thanks. I think?’ Molly stuttered before laughing ‘What a night’

‘Hmmm. I still didn’t get my toes’ Sherlock sulked as he pulled on his coat and flounced from the room leaving Molly alone to smell her flowers and pull out her phone.


	3. Chocolates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise ending!
> 
> Okay, so due to a comment which was posted i realise that some people avoid Holmescest. If this is the case, you can still read the story, just don't read the last 'The next day' sentences. The other bit of the story can be read as Sherlock/Any as it doesnt specify an actual name.

Sherlock lay on the huge emperor sized bed covered in expensive Egyptian cotton sheets; his arms tied to the headboard and his legs spread wide whilst his partner lapped between his legs sloppily. The sounds of slurping and wet skin echoing around the large bedroom as Sherlock groaned and writhed beneath his lover’s talented tongue and lips.

‘Stay still’ the man ordered slapping Sherlock’s upper thigh sharply ‘Unless you don’t want to come tonight?’

‘God, no, please. Sorry’ Sherlock begged, his mind too addled to care that he was playing directly into his lover’s hands.

‘Hmmm good boy’ the older man soothed as he lifted the slightly warmed bottle above Sherlock’s cock and squeezed more of the thick liquid onto the shaft, watching it drip seductively down from tip to base until pooling around Sherlock’s balls and upper thighs.

‘Mmmmm I do love chocolate’ the silky voice proclaimed

‘So it seems’ Sherlock choked back a groan as his lover began to extend his tongue, licking away stripes of the chocolate sauce around Sherlock’s tip and glans. He spent more time than was technically needed cleaning off the very sensitive and stimulated head before opening his mouth wider and taking the full shaft down his throat, relaxing his muscles and swallowing the length until Sherlock was gasping and begging for release, for more, for anything.

Moving lower, Sherlock’s lover nuzzled at the skin on his thigh until he could lap up at the pools of warmed chocolate around the base of his cock and dripping down his balls and into the cleft of his arse. His talented tongue making quick work of cleaning Sherlock but continuing to tease and stroke his captive for long moments, tasting the desperation along with the sweetness of the chocolate treat,

‘Please’ Sherlock begged ‘Please let me cum’

The older man sat back on his legs and looked down at the dishevelled man below; Sherlock looked wild, his eyes almost black and his curls matted to his forehead from sweat. His arms pulled back to show the sweaty underarm hair and the drips of sweat which cascaded down from neck to navel in long trails.

They had been playing for a while; over an hour. Sherlock had been on edge over and over without receiving any release which was his punishment for forgetting about Valentine ’s Day. Regardless of _the work_ both men made time for Valentine’s in their busy schedule, leaving London for a retreat in a luxury hotel where no questions were asked. Their clandestine meeting stretched over a few days of peaceful respite before they returned to their jobs and responsibilities.

‘Do you think you’ve been good enough?’ the older man asked wickedly, trailing a finger up the seam from Sherlock’s balls to tip

‘God… yes. Please’ Sherlock begged desperately, his balls aching with the constant denial

‘Okay’ his lover shrugged as he wrapped nimble fingers around Sherlock’s shaft and began a steady rhythm, flicking his wrist at the tip the way he knew Sherlock loved. The detective keened loudly and arched his back, his arms aching from the position of his bondage.

‘God, oh god’ Sherlock chanted, his eyes closed, his lips open, desperate noises escaping his lips ‘Yes, yes, going to cum’

‘Good boy, come for me’ the older man whispered, watching as Sherlock tensed and seconds later exploded over his stomach with ribbons of thick white cum which streaked the sweaty skin of his torso and chest. Sherlock screamed with bliss as the long denied orgasm burst from him with urgency, soaking him with his own seed.

‘So clever’ his lover whispered as he stroked him through the orgasm, ensuring that he didn’t grip too hard or fast as he knew Sherlock would quickly become over sensitive and the touches would become painful.

A whimper escaped Sherlock as his captor cleaned him up and opened the ropes tying him to the bed; Sherlock mewled and curled himself up against his naked lover, enjoying the smell of chocolate, sweat and cum which surrounded them.

‘Love you’ Sherlock mumbled, already half asleep

‘I love you too’ his lover replied

**The next day:**

Sherlock returned to Baker Street with his luggage and a strangely satisfied smile plastered on his face as John looked up from his laptop;

‘I refuse to believe anything you did with Mycroft would be that enjoyable’ the doctor grinned

‘He had nice chocolate’ Sherlock smiled before turning on his heel and walking through to his bedroom.


	4. Surprise Date

‘I thought you’d still be here’ Lestrade smiled as he was shown through the door to Mycroft’s office, lugging a carrier bag full of takeaway and a bottle of wine through the entry and thanking Anthea with a smile ‘No interruptions please, unless desperate’

Anthea smiled in return and nodded; never once lifting her head from her Blackberry as she tapped at the keys and closed the door securely, her footsteps trailing to silence.

‘Gregory I really can’t’ Mycroft started before being shushed by Lestrade walking over to the desk and giving his lover a deep and passionate kiss.

‘You can, and you will’ Greg insisted ‘will the world stop turning and fall from its axis if you pause your diligent working for an hour and have some lunch with your devilishly handsome boyfriend?’

Mycroft rolled his eyes and clasped his hands together ‘and what did you have in mind?’

Lestrade opened his bag and pulled out the cartons of food, resting them on Mycroft’s oak desk whilst Mycroft placed the important (and highly classified documents) into his desk drawer for later. He watched as Greg opened each container and handed Mycroft the chopsticks

‘I got a mix of our usual’ Greg shrugged ‘tuck in’

‘I did tell you I wouldn’t be home’ Mycroft insisted

‘That was three days ago’ Greg chuckled ‘I’ve missed you and it’s Valentine’s day’

Mycroft gave a divisive snort before realising that Greg was serious ‘You honestly go for that?’

‘Why not?’ Greg shrugged, stuffing more food into his mouth ‘One time of year you get to be romantic’

‘I’m hardly the wooing type’ Mycroft smiled as he opened the bottle of wine and sniffed it, Greg had chosen wisely.

‘Oh… that’s a shame. I’ll just leave without giving you your gift’ Lestrade pouted prettily

‘Gift?’ Mycroft asked

‘It hardly matters now’ Greg pretended to sniffle ‘seems you no longer find me romantically attractive’

Mycroft rolled his eyes and glared at his lover ‘You’re being childish’

‘Perhaps you should spank me’ Greg suggested with an upturned eyebrow

‘Perhaps you should tell me what my gift is’ Mycroft hissed, his food forgotten as he watched Greg stand and walk towards the desk. The DI unzipped his trousers and allowed them to fall to his feet baring himself to Mycroft who could see that his lover had skipped underwear.

‘Oh filthy’ Mycroft grinned

‘Hmmm’ Gregory groaned as he bent himself at the waist and proudly showed off the base of his plug ‘Only for you love’

Mycroft’s breathing hitched as he looked at his wanton lover and the blue plug between his cheeks. He stood carefully, ensuring he looked in control as he walked to Greg trailing his finger down the cleft of his arse.

*smack* the sound of a hard spank echoed around the room along with a deep and needy whimper

Mycroft pressed his fingers to the base of the toy and circled carefully; pushing the plastic directly onto Greg’s prostate and smiling when the DI’s legs almost buckled.

‘Is this for me?’ Mycroft feigned surprise ‘Oh you shouldn’t have’

‘I-I knew you wouldn’t have time to prep me’ Greg whimpered at the constant pressure on his special spot ‘I wanted to spare you the hassle’

‘So thoughtful’ Mycroft smiled, pulling Greg in for a deep and passionate kiss; their tongues slipping against one another as Greg begged for entrance to Mycroft’s mouth.

Mycroft’s cock was pushed against the trousers of his tailored suit, a steady drip of precum creating a puddle into the silk fabric of his underwear.

‘Do you want me to take you here? Over the table love?’ Mycroft asked softly, his nose and lips nuzzling at Greg’s neck and face.

‘Yes. Mycroft anything’ Greg begged, his own cock painfully hard.

Mycroft looked around the room and decided on the sofa ‘Ride me’ he ordered his lover as he quickly stripped himself of his suit, standing in just his underwear he sat on the old leather. He positioned his body to allow Greg to straddle him comfortably; Greg moved and stripped off his own shirt until he stood bare and flushed in front of his lover as he climbed onto Mycroft’s lap,

‘Lift’ Mycroft whispered into Greg’s ear as he pulled the plug out slowly, ensuring that he didn’t hurt his partner. Greg hissed at the emptiness of his hole before sitting above the tip of Mycroft’s cock, their eyes met for a moment before they were kissing desperately once more,

Greg lowered himself down inch by inch; feeling the glorious stretch of his muscles around Mycroft’s considerable girth. He stopped midway for breath, his forehead resting against Mycroft’s as the other man held him tightly and stroked up and down his back.

‘Relax’ Mycroft soothed; holding Greg’s arse and spreading it wider until Greg felt able to continue.

When he was fully inside; Mycroft gasped and stilled his hips from thrusting and taking Greg hard knowing that the DI would need slow strokes to begin. Lestrade moved his hips slowly, circling them and grinding now as he adjusted and found the right position to stroke his prostate, gasping loudly as he found it.

‘Yes. Yes fuck me’ he groaned, his head thrown back to allow Mycroft access to his throat. Mycroft bit and licked the salty skin as Greg moved and twitched around his hardness.

‘Close’ Mycroft warned, it was too soon but Greg’s tight hole was almost too much to bear as he gripped him. Mycroft moved his hand to stroke Greg’s cock at the same speed as their thrusts, harder and harder until the only noise was decadent slaps of wet skin and loud groans.

‘Yes. Yes. Yes’ Greg groaned, his chants peppered with expletives as he rode harder and harder, getting closer and closer.

‘Gregory’ Mycroft managed to choke before he was coming, filling Greg’s tightness with his hot seed whilst Greg threw back his head and wailed as he reached his own climax and covered Mycroft’s auburn coloured stomach and chest hair with thick stripes of white. His body shaking and juddering with the intense sensations,

‘Gregory?’ Mycroft whispered, nuzzling into his lovers ear

‘Hmm?’ the DI replied sleepily

‘Happy Valentine’s day love’


	5. Love Letter

Dearest John,

                                This is ridiculous; the whole idea of sending a love letter at the age of 38 is completely childish and pathetic however I have been informed via the medium of the internet that this is a suitable way of expressing my feelings towards you, although I must admit that the majority of the forums on which this was suggested were frequented by teenage girls. Please do not hold that against me as this is my first attempt at explaining my feelings.

Since you came into my life I have felt different; I have never had anybody with whom I could call an actual friend, I have acquaintances and those people with who I work but I have never had an honest and true friend who enjoys my company as you do. I first believed my feelings towards you to be that of friendship, something platonic and simple to maintain however I now believe that it is something different. Allow me to explain.

The first night we met at Angelo’s you asked about my relationship status, I’m afraid my reaction was one of shock and surprise at being asked something I had no idea about. I have no experience with either gender, nor any with sex or sexual experimentation; I claimed to be married to my work because it is a simple and easily defined relationship. I work hard and have never felt the need to copulate or enjoy anything of a sexual nature,

Recently though; this has changed. I find myself staring at you at the most inopportune moments, you’re currently sitting on your chair across from me, a strange smile across your face as you read one of your ridiculous science fiction books ( _which are not scientifically accurate by the way)_ and I find myself staring at how your lips curl into a sweet smile, how your eyes glisten in the firelight and your pupils change colour with each new lick of flame.

I do believe I have fallen hopelessly in love with you John Watson.

I understand that this may come as a surprise to you; I am aware of your sexuality and how you feel about errant comments about us being more than partners and housemates however I feel that if I don’t express my feelings I very well may go mad. My mind is full of your facial expressions, your routine to the minute and your personality that I can hardly find the space to cram in much needed information on cases.

I am not sure whether we would work in a relationship or whether I would be a good partner. I have no experience in any of the above so would be working blind and following your leadership if you were to consent to our trying. I imagine that you would not be interested and have calculated a 64% chance of being kindly rejected and an irreparable chasm being formed between us, therefore you will never read this letter, I will never give you the opportunity to see it or understand my feelings. I intend to push my feelings down and attempt to control my emotions around yourself to ensure that we can continue on as two pals.

I only hope that writing this may set my mind at rest.

__

                                                                                Yours and yours only

Sherlock Holmes

John sat on the sofa with shaky legs; he had only intended on checking the mornings weather before heading out to work, instead finding the open word document with the inside thoughts and feelings of his best friend written on it. Sherlock had left to visit Molly as she had apparently saved an interesting specimen for him which he had deemed important leaving John alone in Baker Street. As Sherlock wasn’t home and John’s laptop was upstairs, he had used Sherlock’s to check the weather.

‘Shit’ John swore, biting his lower lip nervously ‘Sherlock feels the same way’

Closing the laptop he replaced it on the table and stood shakily, grabbing his coat and heading off to find Sherlock, to admit his feelings and desires to the world’s only consulting detective.


	6. Valentine's Card

Sherlock hated this time of year; hated the fuss and general commotion of an English tradition which wasn’t even useful or interesting. He especially hated the crowds which descended into the shops where he was now queueing impatiently,

His bag of goodies swung by his leg as he stormed through the busy crowds in Oxford Street; reaching the main road he hailed a taxi and climbed into the back, giving the cabbie the Baker Street address he sat and brooded in silence until he reached home.

John looked up as he entered; a smile on his face especially for his lover ‘You alright? Look flushed’

‘People’ Sherlock hissed, flopping down on the sofa without taking his coat off ‘people are idiots’

‘Hmmm’ John hummed before handing Sherlock a fresh cup of tea ‘been anywhere nice?’

‘No’ Sherlock added non committedly before pulling up his carrier bag and emptying its contents onto the table.

John looked over with surprise and momentary alarm ‘Er-Sherlock? I thought we said no to Valentine’s day?’

‘It’s not for you’ Sherlock added without looking up

‘Oh’ John sounded disheartened, they hadn’t discussed their relationship but John had assumed that they were together as an actual couple.

‘It’s for someone almost as special as you’ Sherlock blushed as he looked up at his lover and pulled out a pen, opening the sugary Valentine’s day card and beginning to write.

**Dear Mrs Hudson,**

**Another year has passed and your feminine beauty is still unparalleled in my eyes. Your beauty only surpassed by your sweetness, kindness and friendship. I will always be a secret admirer for you know that I can only say these words once a year.**

**All my love and affection,**

**S.H**

John stood reading the sweet verse over Sherlock’s shoulder and ran a hand through the detective’s curls.

‘How long have you been doing this?’ John asked quizzically.

‘I met Mrs Hudson long before her husband’s arrest. She was always kind to me when I was a young child and when I was at my worst with the drugs she would feed me and care for me, she practically adopted me. I started sending the cards roughly 10 years ago when I realised that my feelings and emotions were difficult to express. Writing them down helps a lot’ Sherlock shrugged as he sealed the letter ‘She’s a very special lady, not just my landlady’

John pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock’s head and tenderly stroked his hair as Sherlock wrote Mrs Hudson’s name with a calligraphic flourish.

‘Now what?’ John asked ‘Do you hand it to her?’

‘Of course not John!’ Sherlock spat ‘interested in some breaking and entering?’

John shook his head with a chuckle ‘fine’

* * *

 

An hour later, Mrs Hudson’s flat was filled with pretty rose petals which had been scattered over her table with a large bouquet of red roses in her favourite vase, the card stood against the intricate glass and beside it laid a selection of expensive Belgian chocolates ordered especially.

Sherlock looked at his handiwork and smiled at his lover with a slight blush,

‘You’re adorable’ John smiled, kissing him softly as they exited back to their own home.


End file.
